


This, Too, Was Familiar

by Feeeshy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-07 21:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeeshy/pseuds/Feeeshy
Summary: (Shadowbringers MSQ spoilers!!)The Warrior of Light accidentally takes Emet-Selch down memory lane.





	1. Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for later chapters.

For eons, Emet-Selch had watched her soul fragments play the role of hero, again and again. Fragments across different worlds, in different ages, with different degrees of success. No two vessels were ever the same, but that achingly familiar color of her soul was always there. Once bright as a star, her soul had been reduced to flickers of light, like dying fireflies in the dark. Fortunately, her fragments and his plans never seemed to cross, at least not directly. He considered this a small blessing. Having to deal with the remnants of that person would be...difficult.

Until now. Now, she seems hellbent on getting personally involved with his carefully laid plans. 

\---

His initial meetings with the group went over about as well as he suspected they would. That one astrologian Elezen recognizing him was unexpected and did not aid in him getting on her good side. His current body as the founding father of the Garlean Empire was probably not this Warrior of Light’s favorite person.

But it did not matter if this incarnation of her liked him, as he was here to watch and to wait. To see if seven times rejoined was enough. It had certainly made some of her old mannerisms more pronounced: Her jack-of-all-trades affinity for magic. The way she hoarded armour and weapons and all manner of small knick-knacks. But ultimately, she and her comrades were determined to keep him at an arm’s length. That is, until an opportunity for him to show some good will arose.

After pulling Y'shtola from the life stream and getting (in his opinion) a very half-hearted thank you in return, the group proceeded back to Fanow. All except for the hero. She stayed behind, watching the others walk away. He could sense some hesitation from her...the way her aether flickered when uncertain had not changed.

"Would you like to get drinks sometime? Me and you?" she said. 

He very nearly choked.

“I would like to thank you properly for saving a dear friend,” she continued. “The best way to do that, I think, is with a round of drinks. And I don’t think the others would be too keen to join.” 

He looked at her, entirely unconvinced. 

“You would have me share a drink with the famed Ascian-slayer?” he said in faux shock.

"Please." She responded in kind, her words dripping in similar sarcasm. "I'm trying to meet you halfway on this ‘partnership’ you want from us. Besides, slaying you wouldn't be a very good way to thank you. Quite the opposite, I would think.”

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. “I would be inclined to agree.”

"So?"

A worry in the back of his mind told him this was a bad idea. She was not the one he missed. She was broken. A parody. Nothing more. This fragment wasn’t worth his personal investment, not until she proved herself worthy...

...but he has been alone for _ so long. _

"Fine." He surrendered to her willingly, waving her off with a casual sway of his wrist.

She nodded with a satisfied smile. “Next time we’re at the Crystarium, meet me at The Wandering Stairs, yeah? Drinks on me." she said, held up an arm in farewell, and walked off towards the others.

_ Well, this was...unexpected. _ A flicker of nostalgia. This was familiar. She had asked him out before, many, _ many _eons ago... But he held back his hope. Just a coincidence. The chance of her possibly remembering anything was nigh impossible.

It would be nice if she did, though.

_ \--- _

It had been a day and most of another by the time the group returned to the Crystarium. The hero was seated at a table in the back, drink already in hand.

“Started without me, I see,” he said as he lazily strolled over. 

She grinned at him. “You actually showed up.” 

It suddenly dawned on him that he had never seen this Warrior of Light smile like this before, least of all at him.

“Hm, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were almost happy to see me.” This, too, was familiar. 

“I thought I would be drinking alone tonight." The weary warrior set down her mug, a calm sigh escaping her lips. She smiled at him. "Not that I’d mind, but I’m glad to see you taking me up on my offer.” 

He sat opposite her, looking towards her as his fist propped up his head. “The curiosity of what could come out of meeting with the hero of the Source alone outweighed my sense of self-preservation.”

“As did my curiosity on what Ascians drink.” She tipped her glass at him.

“Are you really going to buy me drinks?” He didn’t try to hide his amusement. "How very _ scandalous _. Surely your friends wouldn't abide such treatment of your sworn enemy?"

“If they were to ask, I would not hide it." She took a sip of her drink. "But like I said in the Greatwoods: by way of thanks for saving Y'shtola, I am ‘shedding my preconceptions’, as you put it.” 

He didn’t need to drink with her, and he most certainly didn't need her to buy him anything. He was an Ascian, after all. He could materialize anything he wanted. But this was all _ oh so familiar. _Meeting up together in the evening. Unwinding after a day of work. He had spent eons craving for this familiarity. He would allow himself this small indulgence.

She rose from the table, ready to fulfill another quest just as important as any she's done before. “So, what’ll it be?”

He shrugged. "Just ale is fine."

"Took you more for a fancy wine kinda guy."

"I thought we were shedding our preconceptions, hero." The Ascian grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

She grinned in turn, nodding her head.

“Cheers!”

And thus did he have drinks with a fragment of a person he swore he would stay away from, a person he missed more than they would ever know. 

\---

They chatted for a bit. She asked him what the medals on his jacket were for, none of which he couldn’t care to remember. She asked if Ascians could get drunk, to which he replied that it depended on the vessel. She took this as a challenge and ordered another round. When he said he was tired of answering questions, she told him that was fine. They sat in comfortable silence together, drinking and watching the various patrons come and go. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he liked this. 

Eventually, her aether began to flicker again.

“What you said in the cave, about Hydaelyn and Zodiark." The hesitation was on her voice this time. "You say it’s all true?” 

“I speak _ only _ the truth." He leaned forward, closer yet distant. "Whether or not you or your friends will believe me is is another matter."

She downed the last of her drink. Her aether flickered with uncertainty again, more so than before. Something was weighing heavy on her mind. Maybe his story had jostled some long forgotten memories. He smiled, shaking his head just slightly in disbelief at his desperation to believe such impossibilities.

She stood suddenly, albeit unsteadily.

“I think I will call it a night,” she said, leaning heavily on the table for support. She attempted to take a step forward, only to nearly fall over her own feet, down for the count.

“Seems the hero can’t hold her own." The tired Ascian arose, mocking his inebriated new old friend. "Would you like some help?” 

"Yes...yes, I certainly would." The Warrior muttered out, barely able to stand on a single knee.

He obliged without hesitation, allowing her to lean on him for support as they walked towards the Pendants. She leaned on him more than what was probably necessary, grabbing the trim of his coat for extra support. When they made it to the doors of her room, they lingered. Her arm was almost across his chest now with her fingers idly twisting the fur on his coat. She had her head on his shoulder too, though he wasn’t quite sure when that happened. He vaguely wonders how quickly her companions would strike him down if they saw them like this, or if they-

“Something about you is familiar, in a most peculiar way...” She said quietly, as if to herself more so than him. His breath caught. He looked at her, not trying to hide the surprise on his face, but her eyes did not meet his. Before he could say anything she let go of him, and pushed one of the doors open.

“Let’s do this again sometime.” She flashed him a tired smile. “Good night, Emet-Selch.” She closed the door behind her, and he was left alone in the hall.

His mind raced. _ Maybe it’s the alcohol? What if it’s not? How much does she remember? Does she know…? _

He retreated back to the space between worlds. For once in a long while, sleep would be hard to come by.


	2. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emet-Selch meets with the Warrior of Light in the small mining town of Twine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read Tales from the Shadows: Through His Eyes I would highly recommend it!! It's really good.

Emet-Selch was eager to talk to her at the next opportunity she was alone, but unfortunately Vauthry’s surprise attack the next day made her schedule quite packed. After she fended off waves of sin eaters, the group made the decision to leave for Amh Araeng to search for the next Lightwarden. He resigned himself to waiting until they had made it to their next destination before trying to meet with her alone again. 

He was not a fan of the town the Warrior of Light ended up in next. The mining town of Twine could not be more against his personal aesthetic. Everything was dirt and stone and old wood, and the buildings were made with functionality first with nary a thought to their appearance or artistry. Furthermore, and much to his annoyance, upon arriving at the town the hero and her group set about to immediately run errands for the townsfolk. He could hardly stomach it. These pathetic creatures had no idea of whose fragment they asked menial tasks of.

Finally, he saw his chance. While all her companions were set about with their own busywork, she had taken a moment to herself on a platform atop a large tower in the town. A windmill of some kind? He wasn’t sure what the purpose of this structure was, but it afforded him the perfect opportunity.

“Taking a break from collecting rocks? I figure by now you must have quite the impressive collection,” he said as he stepped through the portal.

She gave a start but quickly recovered, leaning back against the wall and giving him a weary smile. It seemed he might have interrupted her while she was deep in thought. “Were you watching this whole day?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I just want to keep track of how this plan of you and yours is going. I have a vested interest in how this plays out, you know.”

“Maybe next time you could do more than just watch,” she said as he joined her in leaning against the wall.

“...No, I don’t think I will, for a variety of reasons.” He motioned to the sky, followed by a dramatic sigh. “Not least of all this overabundance of light. Alas, my stay can only be for a short while today.”

“Such a shame.” The Warrior smiled, amused by his theatrics.

“Oh? Would you like it if I could keep you company longer?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

She chuckled softly. “Ha, the Warrior of Light wanting the company of an Ascian. How absurd.” Her gaze was distant again, looking beyond even the far reaches of the desert before them. He knew this was not unlike her, to get swept up and carried away on a sudden thought.

“Mayhaps I have charmed you.” He tried to gently coax her back from wherever her thoughts had taken her. 

She blinked and shook her head. “Perhaps if you deigned to help once in a while, you would be more charming.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“What, is my innate charisma not enough? I like to think I’m the most agreeable of my Ascian brethren.”

“That is most assuredly true,” she said it under her breath, but it made the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly.

“That sounded almost like a compliment, hero. Careful you don’t let your companions catch you saying such things about me,” he said with a wry smile.

“They would assume I’ve gone mad,” she deadpanned.

“Oh, I assure you, they would.”

The Warrior sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Or perhaps I already have. Do you want to hear the truly oddest thing? I feel like I need to tell you something. Like, it’s something important and I’ve forgotten. Like it’s a congratulation or nameday or somesuch,” she said it with a laugh, but Emet-Selch froze. This sounds like something that had happened before. Something this fragment should not be capable of remembering. The very idea that she could have a specific memory and not just vague feelings set him alight. But he tried to keep his calm demeanor intact.

“...if you do figure it out, let me know, yes?”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, watching the desert before them. Her aether began to flicker again, like a flame that can’t decide which direction to burn. Much to his surprise and enjoyment, his presence seemed to have an effect on her. He thought of trying to ask her about what she meant the other night, if she could even remember after all the ale, but his thoughts were cut short when he felt a familiar weight against him. She had moved to leaning on him.

“The other night, when you helped me back to my room." She looked up at him. "That was very kind of you. I did not think your frail build capable of carrying someone.”

The absolute cheek of this hero. “I beg your pardon, hero, but I'll have you know I can carry things much bigger than you.”

She grinned. “You'll have to show me sometime. I won’t believe it until I see it.”

This back and forth was like a familiar dance. Eventually, her head came to rest on his shoulder, and her hand came up to idly toy with the fur on his sleeve. He found himself falling back into his memories as they stood there side by side, just as they had done millennium ago. It was the first peaceful moment Emet-Selch had had in a long time.

She hummed. “You know, I discovered something interesting that night.”

“Oh? Is it that you can’t hold your ale?” He looked down at her.

“That, despite everything to the contrary, and believe me, there is a lot..." Her hand trailed down his sleeve, pausing to trace the design of the cuff.

"...your presence is a strange comfort to me.”

She took his hand in her own and squeezed, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. “I wonder if it is not the same for you, the way you let me carry on like this,” she said, voice low. That familiar soul danced like wildfire, and he was a moth drawn to the flame. Suddenly, his jacket was much too hot, and this tower not nearly private enough.

He managed to find his voice, suddenly heavy in his throat. "You are quite bold, hero." A trait of her old self he was  _ well _ acquainted with, and one he liked _ very  _ much. 

“It is not unusual for me to run into danger headfirst.” 

“Do you consider me a danger?” The heat between them outpaced the desert heat around them.

“We will have to find out.” He felt the words on his lips.

She suddenly pulled back and sighed heavily. “But, unfortunately, that will have to wait until another time.” She let go of his hand and moved away.

He was both too flustered and disappointed to form a response.

“I’ve been gone long enough,” she continued by way of explanation. “I need to get back down there and help out, lest the others come looking for me.”

He sighed heavily and dramatically, dragging his hand over his face. She was right, as much as he was loathe to admit. "Yes, yes. The rocks." He turned away, ready to teleport away as soon as possible before she could notice how discomposed he had become.

“Until we meet again, hero.”

The portal opened. As he walked in, over the swirl of the aetheric energy quickly encompassing him, he faintly heard the hero bid him goodbye.

“Good-bye, my most distinguished Emet-Selch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my husband for being my proofreader/editor <3


	3. Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warrior of Light has a messy room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took this chapter down last night with the idea that I was going to rework it, but then I realized that between work and moving I wouldn't have time before patch 5.1 and I want this fic to be finished by then. So it's back again!

“...Never would I have thought that you would come knocking.” The Warrior of Darkness didn’t try to hide the surprise on her face when she opened her door to find Emet-Selch standing before her.

His hero had been quite busy since their last encounter. She had slayed the Light Warden of Amn Aragen, and appeared to show no ill effects from it. Now, she and her companions had returned to the Crystarium for a few nights of rest, but once again the majority of her time was monopolized with the going-ons of others. Growing impatient, Emet-Selch decided to visit her at her quarters in the Pendants, as this was the only time she was ever alone. 

“You continue to occupy yourself with the chores of others, and I would rather our chats be more private,” he said in his normal aloof manner.

She let out a small huff of amusement and stepped aside. “Come in, most eminent Emet-Selch.” As he strolled over the threshold, he noted her room was quite a bit messier than he would have expected, seeing how little time she actually spent here.

“That’s actually something I was wondering about.” He picked up a little contraption off a stack of tomes and idlily examined it. It seemed to resemble the frog fae from Il Mheg. “How do you know that is a title, and not my name? It is not exactly common knowledge that we Ascians go by titles.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. I just know it is not your name.” She hooked an arm around his and gestured to the room. “Well, shall I give you the grand tour?”

There was not much Emet-Selch could not see from his current position. He supposed it would be a nice room if not for her not insignificant mess on top of it. There were stacks of tomes here and there, and various armor pieces scattered about the room in different states of cleaning or repair. The great window at the back also had its fair share of books piled on it’s windowsill as well. Weapons of different disciplines were stacked against the wall by her bed, which was actually the most kempt thing in the room.

“I don’t think there is aught much else to see, unless that pile of trinkets over there holds some great secret.”

“Ah, yeah...I haven’t had much time to tidy up,” she said, almost sheepishly.

“Something tells me it would look like this regardless,” he said under his breath.

She gasped at him in mock-offense, and the smallest, faintest smile crossed his lips. 

Upon realizing that they had nowhere to sit and chat, the hero set about clearing off the overburdened chairs. He continued to take stock of her room while he waited. What manner of stuff did this shard fancy, he wondered. An armour from the ancient Ronkan Empire here, a fae codex from Il Mheg there. She had quite the varied taste. Even the books stacked on the windowsill were an eclectic collection of tomes on the arcane, all except for one...

“Oh, now what is this?” Half hidden by the other tomes in the pile, a familiar emblem caught his eye. “Now, how did  _ this  _ get into your room?”

_ " _ Wha-?" They way her shoulders tensed when she saw what he held did not escape his eyes.

_Garlemald: From Fledgling Republic to Formidable Empire. _A book containing the complete, albeit abridged history of the civilization he had built. Not something he would have expected the Warrior of the Source to keep in her library, let alone somehow find a way to bring it across worlds. It seemed there were some treasures to be found in this mess after all.

He thumbed through it as he walked toward her. “If you had an interest in Garlemald history, you need only ask.” His voice was filled with amusement. “Though, I have my suspicions that mayhaps this is a new development?”

Her eyes would not meet his. “There is this fairy I know that can bring items across the realms. I have asked her to get a few things for me recently…” 

“Well, that explains the  _ how,  _ hero, but I am more interested in the  _ why.”  _ He came to stand in front of her now, straightening his usual slouch. He did not try to hide the smirk on his lips or the mirth in his eyes. 

"...Mayhaps that was brought over by accident…" Her gaze continued to advert his, and by Zodiark, there was a  _ blush _ upon her cheeks.

He flipped through the pages until he came to a familiar face, running his finger along a crease made at the corner. "Mayhaps an  _ accident _ ?” Emet-Selch leaned in close. “Mayhaps it is also an accident that only the pages bearing my visage are marked?"

The hero pointedly looked away now. 

“If you want, I can regale you all the tales of my triumphs much better than any book can.” He was like the cat that had caught the canary. She had purposely sought this book out to read about  _ him _ .

She huffed. “I've been trying to figure out where I've known you from,” she began, the blush only depending. “I thought perhaps this little peek into your history would help, but all I learned is that you do not age gracefully.”

“That  _ vessel _ aged poorly, hero.  _ I _ have not.  _ I  _ have aged gracefully.” 

“Is that so? How does a being made of aether age, exactly?”

“Exceptionally well. We Ascians do have our own bodies, you know.” This drew her eyes back to him, and a curiosity burned in them so suddenly it vanished any hints of timidness from before.

“Show me. When I looked upon your likeness in this book,” she took it from him, looking over the page he had turned to, “I saw only a stranger. Whatever is causing me to be so damn drawn to you, it can’t be replicated on parchment.”

This unabashed declaration caught him off guard. “You are truly drawn to me, hero?” That small spark of hope returned to him and settled warmly in his chest.

“It is only now, when I am near you, that the familiar radiates from you.” She set the book down, and her eyes found his again. “So, what is it you are hiding from me, Emet-Selch?” She searched his face for the answers he knew he could not give.

“A great many things, my dearest hero.” He hoped she would overlook the quiet sadness that tinged his response. “And my true appearance shall remain one of them.” 

“A pity.” Her hands reached up, going under his jacket and resting atop his shoulders. There was a time when she was taller than him, he remembered. “Is there no changing you mind?”

“You tire me with these questions. I shall have to retreat back to the darkness if this keeps up.”

“I have just one more.” Her chest bumped against his as she leaned up to him. “Since when was I  _ your dearest hero?” _

The canary had caught him, it seemed.

This whole time he thought he stood a chance of restraining himself, of turning back from her before it went too far_._ He would get just close enough to her to feel the familiar heat, nothing more. But he was greedy. And tired. The warmth emanating from her being, the gentle comfort her presence afforded him…

“Since longer than you can know.” 

Her hands worked his smaller outer jacket off, and he put up no fight for it. It landed with a thunk atop her books. He settled his hands on her hips, drawing them in close, and the fire that burned behind her eyes threatened to engulf him too. 

Deft hands worked quickly to expose as much of him as she could, her hands drinking in every new curve and dip that made itself known with every clothing piece lost. It wasn’t long before he found himself pinned to the bed with the hero towering above him, a thigh pressed firmly between his.

Her kisses left fire on his skin as they traveled across his chest and up his neck. When she made to pull back he caught her lips with his. A bite to her lip and swipe of his tongue is all it took to gain entrance, and her taste sent waves of ecstasy over him. Every part of him was alight for her, wanting every part of her and so much more.

When her hand found his member, he could feel himself unraveling. Dark aether swirled around them as he freed his hands and flipped them over. She bucked her arousal against his and he groaned, deep and low into her neck. When he made to enter her, her legs over his back urged him in deeper and the room went black. He would bring them to a void of his own making. Here, his aether could flow uninhibited, feeling every part of her being, down to the very aether of her core. She could not reach back with her fragmented soul, but it only made his grasp for her more desperate, his grip more encompassing.

There was no gentleness as he moved inside of her. His thrusts were filled with the eons of wanting and waiting and  _ needing.  _ Her hand tangled in his hair and pulled tight, exposing his neck so she could lavish it with bites and bruises that pulled from him broken moans and half gasp. He groaned out her name in a language he knew she didn’t understand, but she returned with a breathless gasp in his ear.

“ _ Hades _ .” He could see the universe behind his closed eyes.

When at last his senses finally came back to him, they were still entwined in the darkness. He wanted to ask her how much she remembered, if it was only his name or more. He made to pull away, to return them to Norvrandt lest she grow uncomfortable in the darkness he had created, but her arms held fast to him. 

“I’ve whisked you away far from home, my dear hero,” he said as he ran his hand through her hair. “We should return before your companions notice.”

Her grip only tightened.

“Not yet,” she quietly pleaded, “let us indulge in this, if only for a little while longer.”

If she would choose to stay in the shadows with him, he would gladly abide.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been 10,000 years since I last wrote a fanfic.


End file.
